‘Aye. I suppose you should.’
Hunter follows suit, smiling so widely at me that I almost reconsider my decision to leave. But then the bedroom door creaks open, and Hannah peeks around the side of it, taking the decision out of my hands.
‘Well, ’night then,’ I say over my shoulder as I walk towards the door of her room.
‘Goodnight, Rosie Winter,’ replies Hunter. ‘Sleep well.’
As the door of Hannah’s bedroom closes behind me, though, I have a funny feeling that I’m not going to be getting much sleep at all.
Chapter 20
I wake up in Hannah’s little single bed the next morning with Stevie draped over my legs, a fluffy rainbow bunny on top of my head and the memory of Hunter’s kiss still on my lips.
Did that actually happen, or did I dream it?
I lie in bed for a few minutes, feeling pleasantly fuzzy and warm from the memory, and wondering if there might be an opportunity for an action replay at some point.
Like today, maybe.
Who knew my journey of reinvention would involve meeting someone like Hunter? Someone who tells me I’m special, and kisses me like he believes it? Oh, and who .?.?. lives in the far north of Scotland. In a castle where someone stabs turnips just to prove how much they hate me. Thereisthat to consider, too.
I push Stevie off my legs and get out of bed, silently slipping out of the T-shirt Hunter gave me last night and into my clothes. Hunter’s door is closed, and although I hover outside it for a few seconds wondering if I should at least knock and let him know I’m leaving, in the end, I slink off quietly, not wanting to wake him.
The thought of going back to my room doesn’t seem nearly as scary in the light of morning as it did last night, but I take my time heading back there anyway, still thinking about Hunter, and how he lives in a hotel that’s approximately six hundred miles from London; and I know because I googled it last night, before I went to sleep.
But no, I’m not going to think about that right now.
I’m not going to think about Hunter at all, in fact. I’m going to think about . . . hot tubs. Yes, hot tubs. Because I’m sure I remember something on the itinerary about this morning being a spa day, where we’d get to sample all the various treatments the hotel has to offer, and I have to admit, thatdoessound rather nice.
If only Sabrina and Dante decide to let me stay here long enough to find out.
I’m still thinking about the hot tub as I make my way back to my room (only now I’m thinking about Hunter being in the hot tubwithme; which isn’t exactly helping with the wholenot thinking about himthing .?.?.), but I stop in my tracks when I reach it and find the door standing wide open, and a tiny flicker of movement inside which can mean only one thing:
There’s someone in my room.
Again.
And, this time, I’m finally going to find out who it is.
‘Aha!’ I yell in a crazed voice, adrenalin making me brave as I burst into the room like a clumsy superhero. ‘Caught in the act!’
There’s a shrill scream as Bex jumps up from where she’s been sitting on the edge of the bed, looking beautiful and fragile, in ahand me my smelling saltskind of way.
‘Bex? What are you doing here? How did you get in?’
I eye her warily, then glance around the room to make sure everything’s as it should be.
‘Sorry,’ she says in an unusually subdued tone as she sinks back onto the bed. ‘One of the housemaids let me in; she was in here cleaning when I arrived. I hope you don’t mind? I just wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday. You know, on the beach?’
I nod cautiously, my heart sinking at the revelation that not one, buttwopeople have been in my room without me knowing about it.
I’m never going to figure out who the turnip stabber is at this rate.
‘Seriously,’ Bex goes on, oblivious to my distress. ‘I owe you one, Rosie. I could have died out there.’
‘You probably wouldn’t have,’ I say, coming over to sit next to her. ‘You’d have landed on sand, so it wouldn’t have been too bad. I’ve fallen off loads of times and I’m still here. Unless you landed on your head, obviously. I suppose you could’ve broken your neck that way. Or your back. That would’ve been bad, too. Um, anyway, I’m glad you’re OK, and not, you know .?.?.’ I trail off, realising my nerves are making me ramble. ‘YouareOK, aren’t you?’
‘Oh, I’m fine,’ she says, rubbing her arms and staring at the floor. ‘I was cold more than anything else, and that was my own fault. The vet said to just rest up and stay warm.’
